


Big Deal

by Weevilo707



Series: Davekat Week 2016 [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Day Four, M/M, Sadstuck, because that's always ripe for the sadstuck, davekat - Freeform, davekatweek, more of dave's shitty homelife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weevilo707/pseuds/Weevilo707
Summary: It's not a big deal, it never is. You've dealt with worse shit in the past and you'll probably deal with worse shit in the future. You just aren't sure why this guy you barely know is the only person to ever act like he gives a damn.





	

You’re not gonna lie here, you’re pretty fucked up right now.

To say that strife had gone not so well would be an understatement. You’re pretty sure something’s broken, but you aren’t quite certain on what yet. Whatever it is it can wait until you figure out what needs stitching and what doesn’t.

Fuck there’s a lot of blood. You’ve locked your door so that Bro can’t fuck with you anymore. A lock wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted to, but at the very least he tends to lay off, especially after a strife like that.

Okay, you think you’ve found the worst of them. While you start getting the stuff you need to clean it off and stitch it up you send John a barrage of texts. He usually brushes you off, makes a joke of it. It helps you get your mind off of exactly what you’re doing.

TG: yo dude guess what  
TG: just got my ass fucking handed to me  
TG: i look like i just took a first place swan dive into a pool full of knives  
TG: fucking gold metal olympic worthy shit here  
TG: michael phelps be jealous as shit  
TG: thats a sports guy right  
TG: im like eighty percent certain hes the water dude  
TG: probably should have just gone with aquaman  
TG: everyone knows who aquaman is  
CG: WHO THE FUCK IS THIS? 

You stop what you’re doing when you get that reply. You haven’t started stitching yet, and you’ve gotten pretty good at doing it one handed anyway. Going back into your contacts, you realized instead of hitting ‘king master of pranks’ (John put that in there, you gotta change it) you started messaging ‘karkat from lit.’ Well fuck.

TG: oh shit sorry man  
TG: wrong contact  
TG: btw this is aquaman  
CG: WAIT, ARE YOU THE DOUCHE WITH THE SHADES?  
TG: yeah thats my street name 

You figure that’ll be the end of it. You said you got the wrong guy so you don’t see any reason to keep talking to him. Before you can actually start messaging John though you get another reply from him.

CG: WERE YOU BEING SERIOUS?  
TG: about what  
TG: being aquaman  
TG: because in that case hell yes  
CG: NO NOT ABOUT BEING FUCKING AQUAMAN.  
CG: ARE YOU HURT?  
TG: what  
TG: no  
TG: well yes but it aint a big deal

You don’t really know what his deal is. You’ve cleaned the wound as good as it’s gonna get though, so you grit your teeth and start stitching it up. It isn’t long before you get another reply from that guy, and you read and respond while you continue to close up the wound with your other hand.

CG: SO ON ONE ACCOUNT IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL.  
CG: AND ON ANOTHER ACCOUNT YOU TOOK A SWAN DIVE INTO A POOL OF KNIVES  
CG: DO YOU NEED TO GO TO A HOSPITAL?

You aren’t sure if anyone’s ever asked you that question before. It takes you way fucking off guard and you find yourself just stopping for a moment. Everything hurts. You don’t notice it when you’re trying not to think about it, but all the cuts sting and the place your stitching aches so fucking much and there’s something wrong with your shoulder but you don’t know what.

TG: are you offering  
CG: WHAT?  
TG: are you offering to take me to a hospital  
CG: I MEAN IF YOU’RE FUCKING BLEEDING OUT AND YOU DON’T HAVE ANYONE TO TAKE YOU.  
CG: THEN YEAH. 

There’s a moment where you don’t know what the fuck to do. You come this close to saying thanks man and giving him your address. Something stops you though, and you take as deep a breath as you can right now and keep on stitching yourself up as you send him a reply.

TG: thanks man i mean i appreciate the offer  
TG: but its cool  
TG: ive had way worse no worries  
CG: YOU SURE?  
TG: yeah  
CG: ALRIGHT THEN.  
CG: MAYBE TRY NOT TO COMBINE ANY MORE OLYMPIC SPORTS AND BLADES FROM NOW ON.  
TG: cant make any promises  
TG: but yeah sure ill try  
CG: FEEL BETTER SOON.

You don’t reply to that and he doesn’t send you any more messages. You consider taking him out of your contacts. You don’t actually know the dude much at all. He was loud and annoying as fuck in the lit class you took last year. He also knew his shit though and you ended up sitting next to each other so you got his number for help with study guides and shit.

In the end you just change John’s contact name instead (Maximum Dork Wrap Supreme) so that you don’t make the same mistake again.

You swear he’s watching you the next time you see him in school. You’re pretty sure none of the injuries are that noticeable. You always check before school just in case anyone saw and got the wrong impression.

It’s not a big deal. It’s just how shit is.

The important thing is he doesn’t make any move to talk to you or anything like that, so life is able to go on as normal. You didn’t expect him to. You’re pretty sure he only offered the hospital thing because he was being nice or polite or something. You’re not anyone for him to actually give a crap about.

You’re almost completely back in shape the next time you have an intense strife with Bro. There’s still something fucked up with your shoulder, but it’s not a big deal. It’s never a big deal, you’ve had worse. 

Still, you’re not anywhere near as fucked up this time as you were last. There’s a cut on your arm you got because of the bum shoulder that needs stitches, so there goes wearing short sleeves for a while.

You’re going to message John once you’re all done with taking care of clean up when instead you find yourself lingering over ‘karkat from lit.’

You shouldn’t message him. You’re pretty damn sure for all intense and purposes you two aren’t even close to being friends. You’re sore as fuck though and tired and you just found out that you need to go to the store to get more ibuprofen, so you decide fuck it and start trying up messages to him.

TG: yo man  
TG: congratulations it is with full intention that im speaking to you right now  
TG: i mean if you want me to fuck off i can do that no problem  
TG: but if you dont then sup  
CG: HEY?  
CG: AND JUST WHAT ARE THE FULL INTENTION THAT YOU’RE SPEAKING TO ME WITH?  
CG: A POLE VAULT INTO A SPIKE PIT?  
TG: no but thats a good one im keeping that  
TG: i guess there wasnt really a purpose  
TG: just kinda bored  
CG: WELL I DON’T KNOW HOW I’M SUPPOSED TO FIX THAT.  
TG: oh  
TG: okay man its cool  
TG: bye  
CG: SHIT WAIT.  
CG: SORRY, I’M KIND OF AN ASSHOLE.  
CG: AND I’M NOT ACTUALLY DOING SHIT, SO WE CAN TALK.  
CG: IF YOU STILL WANT.  
TG: don’t worry about it  
TG: we barely know each other so its fine if you didnt want to talk  
TG: but yeah id still be down

The conversation actually ends up being pretty damn entertaining. He’s funnier than you remember. Or maybe his rants are just funnier when you aren’t forced to hear them screamed in your ear at seven in the goddamn morning.

It turns into a really weird habit. After every particularly bad strife with Bro you end up messaging him. Talking and arguing about bullshit and bad movies until you can almost forget about the reason you started talking to him in the first place.

He’ll ask about it. You still aren’t sure if he’s being polite or actually cares, but you guess it’s possible that it’s a little bit of both. You still don’t talk to him when you see him in school, but sometimes you’ll nod at each other. It’s kind of nice.

You’re taken a bit off guard when he’s the first one to message you one day.

CG: PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE ON RIGHT NOW.  
TG: im very on  
CG: NEVER MIND FUCK OFF.  
TG: aw  
CG: FINE I’LL FORGIVE YOU, BUT YOU BETTER COUNT YOURSELF LUCKY.  
TG: sweet  
TG: so whats up man  
CG: WELL I JUST SPENT THE LAST HOUR DECIDING WHETHER OR NOT TO MAKE AN ASS OF MYSELF.  
TG: and what have you decided  
CG: TO MAKE AN ASS OF MYSELF  
CG: WHAT ELSE WOULD I POSSIBLY DO.  
TG: yeah i thought so  
TG: so what you do  
CG: WELL I HAVEN’T ACTUALLY DONE IT YET.  
TG: oh  
TG: well then what are you going to do  
CG: ARE YOU OKAY?  
TG: what  
TG: yeah why would you ask that  
CG: IT COULD BE THE FACT THAT YOU’RE ALWAYS HURT.  
TG: no im not  
CG: YEAH, YOU KIND OF ARE.  
CG: IT’S NOT THAT HARD TO NOTICE.

You’re at a loss for words. You never not know what to say. No one’s ever just fucking put it out on the table like that before either.

TG: well no one ever has  
CG: WHAT?  
TG: no ones ever noticed  
TG: so it cant be that easy  
TG: or you know what maybe it is  
TG: maybe its easy as all hell to see and it turns out that no one gives a fuck

You don’t know what you’re saying anymore. Or you do, but you don’t want to. You don’t want to talk about this but you’re not turning your phone off or blocking him like you could. Like you _should._

You guess you do want to talk about it on some level. Maybe that’s why you kept messaging him after every fucked up strife. Because this guy you barely fucking know was the only person to ever ask if you needed help and was completely willing to do something if you did.

CG: I HIGHLY DOUBT IT’S THAT.  
CG: I GUESS I WASN’T TELLING THE COMPLETE TRUTH WHEN I SAID IT WAS EASY.  
CG: YOU DO A GOOD JOB OF HIDING IT ALL, IT’S JUST EASY TO SEE WHEN YOU ACTUALLY START LOOKING.  
TG: thanks  
TG: so much better knowing that its not that people dont care if im hurt they just dont give a crap about me at all  
CG: GOD FUCKING DAMN IT.  
CG: I KNEW I WAS JUST GOING TO MAKE AN ASS OF MYSELF.  
TG: yeah you called that one  
CG: LOOK, I’M JUST GOING TO SAY THIS AND THEN I’LL LEAVE YOU ALONE.  
CG: I’M SORRY IF I PISSED YOU OFF  
CG: I DO ACTUALLY GIVE A CRAP, AND IF THERE’S ANYTHING I CAN DO TO HELP I WANT TO

You don’t respond to him, and he doesn’t say anything else. You stop nodding at him when you see him in the hallway in school, and you try as hard as you fucking can to just pretend all of that never happened. 

It won’t leave you alone though, and you keep rereading that last conversation. It slowly starts to settle in your gut that something’s _wrong._ It’s wrong and you’re trying to ignore it and pretend it’s not there but maybe all those wrong impressions you’ve been afraid people would get if they saw all the cuts and bruises aren’t so wrong after all.

Another bad strife happens. Your shoulder’s still messed up, and you’re starting to get afraid that the damage might be permanent from ignoring it and continuing to use it despite the pain for so long. You stumble into your room, lock the door, but this time you don’t bother to get out the first aid kit. Instead you take as deep a breath as you can (might have broken a rib, might have just bruised it, either way it hurts like fuck) and pull out your phone.

TG: hey  
TG: that offer to take me to the hospital still good  
CG: YES.  
CG: I’LL BE THERE IN A FEW MINUTES.  
TG: thanks  
CG: DON’T MENTION IT.

**Author's Note:**

> it's still wednesday for two more hours where i am so i'm totally not late for sadstuck day. this one took a little while, i had a hard time figuring out just what to do because like half the things i write are sadstuck so it's a really broad topic. this was a fun little thing to write though.
> 
> as always, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!


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